We Don't Even Have to Try
by FatalTie
Summary: He straightens his back and clears his throat. He was 23 now, not a fumbling teenager. An adult. Mikado wasn't going to leave a coffee shop just because he was too embarrassed to look the cute barista in the face. Nope. Even if the barista had left the absolute worst pick up line in the world on his cup. Coffee Shop / College AU. Aged UP.


It's not that he doesn't think the barista's cute.

Because he does.

But he's a _guy_.

And well that's not exactly an issue per se; Mikado had spent years coming to terms with the fact that he's bisexual.

That said, realizing you are attracted to men and _dating_ men were two different things.

It just felt easier to stick to pursuing women for all sorts of reasons (and maybe most of those reasons had to with his parents) and he liked women just as well so why complicate it? So until this point he hadn't ever seriously considered dating any men.

He clutches his coffee a little tighter in his hand, the note scribbled on the side peeking out from underneath his thumb. The laptop's screen dims again and Mikado huffs, tapping the touch pad to brighten the monitor. His half-finished term paper stares back at him and he wonders how long he's spent alternating between looking at his last sentence and the black scrawl on his cup.

Mikado sneaks a quick peek over his shoulder.

The blonde's eyes, Mikado has yet to learn his name, immediately connect with his.

He jumps and quickly turns back around, his face burning.

 _He saw!_

He thinks of fleeing momentarily, but the summer heat has made his apartment unbearable to work in and he _really_ didn't want to make the train trip to his university.

No. Nope.

He straightens his back and clears his throat. He was a 23 now, not a fumbling teenager. An adult. Mikado wasn't going to leave a coffee shop just because he was too embarrassed to look the cute barista in the face. Nope. Even if the barista had left the absolute worst pick up line in the world on his cup. Even if he felt like his heart was going to hammer out of his chest— _god_ had he looked like an idiot? He looks like an idiot.

The urge to run starts to well up again and he takes a quick gulp of his coffee— and winces. It's not that the coffee is too hot, well maybe a little, but mostly it's not what he expected. He had ordered a pretty simple latte. Nothing special. And whatever this was… well it just wasn't what he had ordered. Mikado didn't particularly have anything against sugar, but this thing was just _drowning_ in it. Painfully sweet. On that note: he usually avoided getting any extra shots of flavoring with his orders mostly to avoid running up the cost but also because they didn't really seem necessary. This… _concoction_ tasted like some horrible mix of quite possibly everything behind the counter.

In any case, this was not his coffee.

… Oh god this wasn't his coffee, he _stole someone's coffee._

He was such an _idiot_ no wonder the barista was looking at him—

He should have known there was no way that line was for him, the guy had fawned every single girl who walked in since Mikado has been here; he probably wasn't even interested in men.

Should he go up apologize? Did whoever he steal this from get a replacement coffee? Did they have his?

A light sweat rises on his neck.

 _I'm so embarrassed._

Mortified, Mikado slips further into his booth, praying to anyone that was listening that the barista won't say anything and just let him _die in peace._

He stares at the quite possibly the worst tasting coffee he's ever had the displeasure of ingesting and resigns to his fate. He'll just keep it; he can't just go up and demand another coffee. It was his mistake after all. Maybe after an hour or so, when there's a shift change, he'll be able to just order again and get a new one.

Glumly he taps the track pad on his laptop again, relighting the screen.

Eyeing the side of his cup again, Mikado realizes he's just a bit disappointed.

Wait a second.

He turns the cup around.

His name.

His name is on the cup?

So then… he didn't grab someone else's coffee.

This was his. That line is for him.

There's a rush of a different sort of embarrassment flowing into his face.

… but what on earth had happened to his order?

" 'Can I have your number? Cause I like you _a latte_.' "

Mikado jumps, nearly spilling his drink all of the table. Someone slips into the seat across from him holding their own cup—the barista. Mikado just sort of gapes at him stupidly for a second before glancing at the messy sentence on his drink.

 _Can I have your number, cause I like you a latte._

"You ordered a latte. Get it?"

He laughs a bit louder than Mikado thinks is warranted.

Mikado mouth is still trying to catch up with his brain—

"This isn't what I ordered."

The other man blinks at him owlishly and it occurs to Mikado that maybe that came off a bit harsher than he'd intended but it's _true_.

"I'd like to think of it more as… I took some creative liberties with your order!"

Mikado can't say for sure what his face looks like at the moment but whatever it's doing can't be good because the other man visibly shrinks back.

"That's a bit _arrogant_ of you, isn't it?"

The words slip out before he can stop them, but he doesn't exactly regret them. He stands by them in fact! The other man just stares at him in surprise. Who does this guy think he is? Just, changing orders however he likes? Still though he hadn't intended to sound as venomous as he had. Maybe he should—

The barista coughs a little, looking sheepish.

"Sorry."

He offers the coffee in his hand.

"This is your actual order," he smiles a little, "in case you don't like the other one."

Mikado eyes it warily, before carefully taking it.

It's warm against his fingers and he can faintly smell the coffee through the lid. He takes sip.

And nods.

He sets it back down, sighing contently.

"Was the one I gave you really that bad?"

Mikado reaches for the sugar packets, "It was _horrible—"_

He freezes, realizing too late that he was maybe being a little too mean, the barista staring at him in surprise again.

"You really don't pull your punches do you?"

He tries to stutter out an apology, but the blonde just waves him off and reaches for the abomination that Mikado had abandoned.

"It's not like you're wrong, I might have gotten a little overzealous with the flavor shots."

He grins brightly and all of sudden Mikado finds that he really can't look directly into the other's face. Instead he busies himself with opening some packets of sugar and stirring them into his drink. From his peripheral he watches the blonde take a swig from the first coffee, relieved when he sees the man's face twist in disgust.

Mikado takes a small sip of his new coffee, almost…

"Two more, right?"

The barista tosses two more packets of sugar across the table to him.

"You never get anything special with your order, but you always end up putting in at _least_ four packets of sugar in it," He nurses another small sip of his newly adopted beverage, "So I thought, 'Hey, today I'll throw in a couple of flavor shots, it'll be a nice surprise, make the dude's day!' but…"

He sets down the cup, frowning,

"It didn't quite come out how I envisioned."

Mikado just sort stares blankly at him. He does come to this shop rather frequently, but he'd never really paid attention to who was behind the counter before now. How many times had he rattled off his order to this guy without even remembering it was the same person?

"You're probably like, 'uwah I can't believe the hottie barista remembers so much about me! Kyahh! I'm so happy!' Right? Right?"

"Not really… I didn't realize I had been helped by the same person so many times."

He stirs in his extra packets of sugar watching the man across from him dramatically clutch at his chest.

"Ouch! So blunt!"

Mikado frowns, feeling heat rush to his cheeks. His tablemate smiles again and sets his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his hand.

"… but I can't say I dislike that."

He feels himself flush further and buries himself in his drink.

It's perfect.

"… Sooooo, Mikado, right?"

He looks up, a bit ruffled from the familiar tone, "… yeah?"

"Allow me to officially introduce myself, I'm the great Kida Masaomi!"

There's the slightest twitch on Mikado's lips.

"Ah… nice to meet you?"

The other man, Kida, is practically glowing, laughing boisterously.

"Now that we both know each other," He points to Mikado's now asleep laptop, "and you don't seem to be making any progress on this… wanna go find something fun to do?"

There's a distinct sparkle to his eyes that endears Mikado.

But he takes a moment to really look at Kida.

Sure he had very cute face, and yes, maybe he did have a really infectious sort of smile. But they had, for Mikado anyway, just met. And there's a lot he didn't notice until he was up close. Kida's hair is bleached, which in and of itself, might be fine but that's just the first thing. There's line of piercings up both his ears, gleaming in the light. A barrage of different metal and leather bracelets around his wrists.

And the most telling thing is the remnants of almost healed bruises along his knuckles.

Everything about this guy looks like trouble.

Why does he feel excited?

"… I don't know…"

Kida continues to grin at him,

"You say that but," He tilts his head slightly, like he's curious, "You're smiling aren't you?"

Mikado taps his fingers against the side of his drink for a moment before shutting his laptop.

He smiles a little wider.

"Okay… let's find something fun to do then, Kida-kun."


End file.
